


Love Is Needing To Be Loved

by Anonymous6285



Series: *pride* [7]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: :), Acceptance, Coming Out, Crying, Drunken Confessions, Frottage, Kissing, Pancakes, Self-Acceptance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26003383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous6285/pseuds/Anonymous6285
Summary: The story of John Lennon coming out to the important people in his life.
Relationships: John Lennon & Mimi Smith, John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Series: *pride* [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1967863
Comments: 15
Kudos: 55





	1. Aunt Mimi

John sat down to the table with a huge smile on his face. “Pancakes for dinner? Oh my god, that’s amazing! What’s the occasion?” Aunt Mimi only smiled at him, and John began to get worried. “Shit, it’s not your birthday, is it? I thought that wasn’t until next month.”

“No,” she laughed. “No, it’s not my birthday. I just wanted to have a little meal with you. And talk.”

“That’s never good.” But the boy’s playful smile disappeared when Mimi sighed. “W-what’s wrong?” he asked, fearing the worst. Ever since his uncle and mother had died, he wasn’t sure things could get any worse.

“It’s nothing really. You just grow up so fast.”

“What are you talking about? Hey, I told you I’ll come and visit after I move away. You know I will. And if I don’t, well, I haven’t thought of that.”

Mimi chuckled. “I know, Johnny. It’s about something else.” He remained quiet. “I was cleaning your room the other day--” She saw the way her nephew stiffened. “I found something under your mattress.”

“Shit!” John cursed, immediately knowing what she was talking about. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have seen those. I really am sorry.”

“It’s alright. I’ve seen them before. It’s just… ah, I don’t really know how to say it or ask or--”

“You’ve seen them before? Oh, God.” A blush crept up on his face just as a magazine hit the table. On the front of it was a naked man, posing with a six pack of abs played across his abdomen.

John was speechless for a few seconds before he was able to process what it actually was.

“Shit. Fuck.” He stood up from the table, ignoring the pancakes and ran out of the door. Mimi got up, as well, and followed him out onto the sidewalk, where he was speed walking, practically running away from the house.

“Hey, wait, Johnny!” She ran to catch up with him, glad when he slowed down a bit. “John, please just wait a second, okay? Just tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? I mean, you saw the bloody thing!” She didn’t say a thing, and John fell to the ground, tears starting to run down his cheeks. She wiped them off with her hand.

“Hey, there’s no need to cry. Talk to me, Johnny. Please.”

He shook his head. “I can’t just… talk to you about this.”

“Why not?” she asked, her voice even softer than before, if that was possible. John covered his face, a loud sob escaping his mouth.

“It’s horrible. I’m just a horrible person.”

“What do you mean? John, you’re the strongest person I know. And you’re kind and smart and funny. You are not a horrible person at all!” When he didn’t respond, she continued talking. “John, was that your magazine?”

He looked at her, and when he realised that he could trust her no matter what, he nodded slowly. “Y-yeah. It is. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have things like that. Especially since I’m… well, a bloke. I shouldn’t have bloody girl pornos. It’s gross.”

Mimi smiled. “Well, I mean, I don’t think he was that gross. I didn’t look inside, but from the cover, he looked pretty alright.”

John swore he choked on air at that moment. “Mimi, what are you--? Oh, God. Now I’ve got to throw it away. Do you know how awkward it was buying that?”

She only smiled at him. “You bought it?” She asked cheekily, assuming he had probably stolen it somewhere. When John realised what he had said, fear filled his eyes, and Mimi noticed. “John, you know I’m not mad at you or anything, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Do you… like guys, then?” John shrugged, looking down at the ground. “It’s okay if you do.”

“I just… I don’t know. I wish I could just forget about it all.” He huffed as he pushed past her, more tears running down his face.

“John, you’re acting like it’s your own fault!”

He turned around, almost angry. “Well, isn’t it?”

“Wh-- no! It’s not your fault! Why would it be your fault?” He said nothing back. “Well, it’s not. Love is a strange thing, John. And it doesn’t mean just a man and a woman. Sometimes it’s a man and a man. Or a woman and a woman. Maybe two men and a woman. Or three women and a man. Maybe--”

John laughed. “I think I get the gist of it, Aunt Mimi.” She smiled at him.

“Do you want me to buy you some more magazines?”

“God, no. Please no.” He laughed, sniffling away his tears. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She kissed John on the cheek, and the two of them started on their way back home.


	2. Paul

Just as the Beatles started to take off, stress had grabbed John by the arse and beat him numb. Not only was there this new pressure of the press watching everything he did and having to keep up a good reputation, but he also had discovered that he had kind of fallen in love with his best mate, Paul.

For a few months, he swore to never say anything to him, of course. How could you? It wasn’t even legal to be a homosexual, so he could be arrested if anybody ever found out about it.

But one night while they were out drinking, John couldn’t stop himself from saying the words out loud.

It had been a long day. John had cried over Paul for a couple of hours before Paul called and asked if he wanted to go out. He’d said yes, even though he really didn’t want to, because it would have been awfully suspicious if he’d declined.

He sat at the bar next to the bassist, sipping at whatever number drink this was. He couldn’t remember.

“Paulie, you’re pretty pretty.”

“Ha! You said pretty twice, Johnny. God, you need to just go home, mate.”

John shook his head. “No, Paul. Like, you’re really pretty. I wouldn’t mind kissing you.”

Paul froze, eyes wide, and for a split second, John wanted to laugh at it, but he realised what he’d said out loud. And then he got scared.

“Oh, god. I’m so sorry--”

And then he felt a pair of lips on his own, and he immediately pushed them away. Paul blushed. “Sorry, John. You said you wouldn’t mind…”

“God, not in public! Are you crazy?!”

Paul looked hurt. “John--”

“You’re going to get us both bloody arrested!” He stood up and started to run out of the bar, Paul following him. “We’re going home, Paul.” He started to stick his thumb out in the road to get a cab.

When one pulled over, they both got in, and John gave the driver his address. Both of them started on the way to his house, and Paul refused to say a word until they were there.

“Out you get,” John demanded when they arrived.

“This isn’t my house…”

“I need to talk to you, and I doubt you can afford getting to your house.” Paul shrugged and got out as John paid the driver.

“I’m sorry I kissed you,” he mumbled when John started unlocking the door. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t,” John grumbled out.

“What?”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable. I just don’t think it’s a good idea while we’re both so drunk. And especially not in public.”

“Oh.” Paul looked down at the ground. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think--”

“No. You didn’t think at all. Stupid… fuck, I’m sorry, Paul. I’m not meaning to be so rude to you. I just get really upset when I’m like this. Hopefully I’ll sleep it off.”

“Did you want me to stay here?” Paul asked slowly, and John just nodded.

“I mean, why not?”

Paul watched him closely. “You wanted to talk to me?”

“Yeah… I think you should know that, I mean, I’m not just drunk. That’s not the reason I wanted to…” Paul’s face didn’t change. “I, erm… I like blokes.”

“You’re… gay?”

John shook his head. “No, no, I like girls, too. I like both, I think.”

“Is there a word for that?”

John shrugged. “Probably. I don’t know what it is, though.”

“Oh. Well, I like blokes, too, if it makes you feel any better.” He started to trail his finger up his own arm. 

John couldn’t help but lean over to him and bite his lip, the way it looked like that. 

“Oh, John!” Paul yelped with a smile. 

“Do you think… maybe you like me?” 

Paul blushed. “I think that maybe I do.”

A breath escaped John, and he just laughed. “God, do you know how long I’ve dreamed of this moment? So long…”

Paul leaned over and kissed him again. “Well, what do you say we make it a good one?”

“Oh, please.”


	3. George

A few years after that, John and Paul had become very close to each other. They were sure to keep it from the rest of their bandmates, but one night, they weren’t so lucky.

It had started as a normal night, both of them ready to just sleep. Until Paul rolled on top of John, kissing him passionately on his soft lips. John moaned into the touch, and kissed him back, gasping when Paul ground his hips against his.

“Are we really doing this?” he asked with a smile. “George and Ringo are in the next room over, Paulie…”

“I know. We’ll be quiet.”

“We can try,” John laughed. Paul started to grind on him again, and when he felt the blood rush straight to his cock, he started to pull off his shirt. Paul followed suit, and when their bare chests collided, John couldn’t help but giggle.

“Shh,” Paul warned. “What if they hear you?”

John only smiled. “We won't know until we find out.”

“No, we won’t be finding out, John. Just keep it a little quieter, okay?” John grinned, bucking his hips up into Paul’s, making the younger man gasp in pleasure. “God, Johnny. God, take your fucking pants off.”

Paul climbed off of him, allowing him to do so. Paul had his off first and he flung them across the hotel room, hitting them against the wall, the buckle of his belt causing a boom. But when he looked at John, the older man didn’t seem to even care. He, too, had his pants off within seconds, pulling Paul back on top of him.

Paul started to grind on him again, and as soon as he was getting into a good rhythm, they both heard the door fling open. John closed his eyes, refusing to turn his head and see who it was.

“Oh,” Paul whispered as he crawled off of John, using the blanket to cover himself. “Hey, Georgie.”

“I just… fuck, sorry. I heard a bang, and I wanted to make sure you two were both okay.”

John opened his eyes. “Guess this wasn’t exactly the bang you were expecting, huh?” he said sarcastically, trying his best to hide how embarrassed he was. Paul looked over at him with bright red cheeks, and George didn’t know what to say in return.

“I’m… maybe I should go.”

“Wait!” John called, much to the confusion of the other two men in the room. “I’m really sorry.” He stood up, and George closed his eyes tight. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen. You don’t have to close your eyes.”

“I’m gonna go,” he said. “I didn’t mean to barge in. I’ll let you two get back to… yeah.” And he slipped out of the room, terrified.

“Well, shit,” Paul breathed out. “I suppose one of us should go talk to him, right?” The bassist looked over at John, his breathing only starting to steady out.

“Yeah, probably. I’ll go. Why don’t you just stay here and try to calm down a bit, yeah? You look like you need it.”

“Sorry. I just… what if he’s not okay with it?” John sighed. “I’m serious! I mean, it’s George! What if he, I dunno, quits the band or something for it?”

“Paul, just calm down. I’m sure he won’t quit. I just need to talk to him, okay?” Paul nodded. “Alright. I’ll be right back.”

John got dressed and disappeared from the room and hurried to George and Ringo’s room, standing in the doorway. The other two stared at him, but the youngest still looked horrified.

“George, could I talk to you?” He nodded, following John out into the hall. “Look,” he started. “Sorry you had to walk in on that. You probably didn’t want to--”

“It’s fine,” George interrupted. “I mean, all of it, it’s fine.”

“I don’t… I’m not following.”

“If you’ve come to tell me how much you love Paul, or whatever the hell you hopeless romantics are into… There’s no need. I’m not disgusted or anything. I promise.”

John was quiet as George wrapped both of his arms around him.

“You two are my friends, and I want you to be happy. Whatever that means.”

John swore that he could feel tears of happiness stinging his eyes. “Oh, my God. I mean, I wasn’t expecting you to, like, hate us, but you’re just… you’re being so amazing about all of this.”

“Well, I don’t see why I wouldn’t be,” he replied softly. “I don’t know if anybody’s ever been bad to you about this, but you know I’m not like that.”

He took a breath. “Are you sure, then?”

“You’re happy. Both of you are, yeah?”

John nodded. “Yeah, very.”

“Well, I don’t see how I could be upset, then. Do Jane and Cynthia know? Does Julian?”

“Erm… Paul and Jane broke up.”

George stared at him. “And Cynthia?” John said nothing. “John, you have told her?”

“It’s not that easy…”

“Oh, my god.”

“George—“

“You’ve got to! It’s better to just tell her, Johnny.” When the older man shook his head, George sighed in sadness. Of course this was hard for him. “Whatever happens, John, it’s gonna be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

George nodded. “Yes. If she’s upset about it, well, you were leaving her anyway, right?”

“Well, I suppose…”

“Just tell her soon, okay?” John wiped away the last of his happy tears. 

“Alright. Thanks so much. Really.”

“Don’t look so worried. We can keep it quiet, yeah? It’s nothing to fret over.” That was a lie, and they both knew that, but neither of them said anything about it. Without another word, John got up and left the room, a certain level of uneasiness in him. At least George was okay with them.


	4. Cynthia

John waited anxiously in the living room as he heard Julian screaming from his room. He wanted to help his wife with putting the boy to bed, but he was much too nervous at the moment.

He’d been putting off telling her for a few months, and George continued to ask him, so he ought to just get it over with.

When she walked into the room, he got even more nervous, fiddling with his fingers. She noticed. 

“What’s the matter with you, John?”

“I need to talk to you,” he managed to say. She was immediately next to him as if he was hurt.

“What’s going on?” He didn’t reply, so she brought her soft hand up to his face. “John?”

“I should probably start with, er… I’m bisexual.” Her face didn’t change at all, and the guitarist only got worried. Maybe he shouldn’t have told her. It was much easier to hide it all. A few minutes went by, and he stood up, pulling away from her touch. “Sorry--”

“John, that’s alright. B-but why are you telling me now?”

He hesitated for a bit. “Just thought you might like to know…” he lied, but she could see right through him.

“That’s not it,” she whispered, on the verge of tears. “Is there somebody I should know about?” John started to shake his head, but she interrupted him. “Please don’t lie to me, love.”

“No, there’s… yes, but… I don’t know what to do.”

She opened her mouth and said something so quietly, John didn’t even hear it. He hummed in confusion. “Is it a… he?” John broke eye contact and refused to look up from the floor. “Oh, my-- god, okay… how long have you two been--?”

“A while,” John said before she could finish the sentence. He was afraid of what he and Paul had really become. 

“Wh-who is he?” John shook his head. “Well, if you’re not going to tell me… are you… leaving me?”

“Well, when you put it that way--”

“John! What about Julian?!”

“He’ll be fine! We could still both live here. I mean, I can’t even be with a guy, so it’d be a bit strange if I just left my wife and kid and there wasn’t anybody else--”

“What are we going to tell Jules?” Her tone just kept getting angrier and angrier, and John knew she was about to snap. At least she didn’t have to know about Paul.

“I don’t--”

“Daddy?” came the small voice of the child. “Daddy, I can’t sleep. Can uncle Paul come read me a story?” John’s eyebrows shot up.

“He’s not here, love.”

“But he was here this weekend.” That weekend was when Cynthia had gone out of town for a friend’s wedding. And in her head, she seemed to connect the dots. Saying nothing, she picked up the boy and carried him off. “Wait! Mummy, wait!”

“We’re going to put you to bed, Julian. You’ll be grounded if you come back out of your room again.” She knew it was harsher than she usually was, but she was about to have a serious talk with her husband.

A few minutes later, after much hysterical screaming from her son, she walked back out to the living room, where John was in tears. But she found no sympathy in her heart.

“Paul?” she breathed out. “Paul McCartney? Are you serious? I have been nothing but faithful to you, and you cheated on me with your best mate??!”

“Cyn-”

“Don’t! I don’t want to hear it. Do you know how sick that is?! I loved you, John! I still do!!”

“I love you, too, Cyn. I mean, do you really think this is my fault?! You think I chose to be a queer!!”

“I don’t care what you chose and what you didn’t,” she seethed. “You didn’t even think it was important to tell me that you were in love with your bandmate until our child, OUR child, was already dragged into it.”

“He loves Paul! You know that Paul’s a better father to him than I’ll ever be! I could at least give him that, yeah?!”

“And Jane?”

“They broke up. A few months ago.”

“Is that how long this has gone on? A few months?” He didn’t respond. “You know what? I don’t even care. If he makes you happy--”

“I’m sorry. I never would’ve wanted this to happen.”

“That makes two of us,” she said deadpan. “So, what happens next?” A shrug. “Just… you’ve got to give some time, okay?” She started towards her own room.

“Wait, Cyn… I need to know you won’t tell anyone. It’s illegal, and--”

“I won’t,” she huffed and left.


	5. Ringo and Brian

When John walked into the studio, the others were already mumbling, and they all looked up at him. Paul with sympathetic eyes.

“What’s going on?” he asked, setting his bag down.

“Why didn’t you tell us, John?” Brian said with squinted eyes.

“About what?” Paul got up and handed him a newspaper, where the biggest headline read: ‘Beatle John Lennon and Wife Cynthia Lennon Divorce?’ His heart stopped. God, why hadn’t he just said something beforehand, not needing to be in this awful situation.

He threw it back at the bassist. “John--” George started.

“Mind your own damn business!”

“Why didn’t you tell somebody?!” Brian demanded. “John, this is serious! It would’ve been nice to know.”

“Eppy, you manage the band, not my life! You couldn’t have done anything about it, anyway.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing!” He snickered. “That was the problem.” None of them were amused.

“You told her, didn’t you?” George said with wide eyes. “That you were cheating on her?”

“John!” Brian shouted.

“It’s not my fault! I was worried she was going to tell somebody!” He glanced at Paul. “I could be killed for it!”

“You’re going to tell me about that?!” Brian shouted. “You’re not going to be killed for cheating on your wife!! What I am, that’s what’s really dangerous!”

“It’s not a bloody competition!” Ringo shouted, but George, John, and Paul just got quiet. Brian noticed how awkward they looked.

“What…? What’s going on?” Paul let out a strangled breath and moved toward John, who tensed when he saw what the bassist was doing. But before he could do anything about it, he felt the hand in his own, and he closed his eyes. “Oh, god…”

“It’s the reason I broke up with Jane,” Paul whispered. “She doesn’t know, though…”

“Oh, fuck me,” Brian mumbled. “So you’re both ‘single’ now to the public. How’s that going to look? The press is going to figure things out!”

“That’s not my problem!” John shouted at him, pulling his hand away from Paul’s. “I don’t care about the bloody press! My private life is mine! Not theirs!”

“You think that that’s going to stop them?!” John went quiet, and Brian said nothing, still trying to comprehend what was going on.

“Congrats,” Ringo said shyly, and they looked over at him, confused. Paul hummed. “I just… congratulations on, erm, coming out, I guess.” He smiled, but it fell when nobody smiled back. 

“No, yeah, Richie’s right.” Brian blinked. “I’m sorry, that’s big to… share. I didn’t mean--”

“Forget it. You seem to care more about the bloody press, anyway.” John sniffled and stomped off, and George just glared at their manager.

“Are you serious, Brian? They just came out to you, and you just… god, that makes me sick.” He looked over at Paul. “You okay?”

“Yeah, m’fine. I think I’m going to go, erm, check on John, though.” As he started to walk off, Ringo spoke.

“Sorry Brian’s such an arse.”

Paul smiled, but continued toward the door, anyway. He came up to the toilet, the door of which was closed, and knocked on it. “Johnny? Are you in there?”

“Fuck off.”

“John, love, just let me in. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone over to you or held your hand. I didn’t know that you didn’t want them to know.” Silence followed. “It was wrong, what I did, yeah? I should’ve asked you before.”

“I don’t care about that, Paul! I’m glad to finally have it off my chest, I just… I didn’t think she was going to go public with it so fast.”

“Oh…” Paul shifted his weight from foot to foot awkwardly. “I’m so sorry about that. Why didn’t you tell me she knew?” He could hear John crying through the door.

“I don’t know. I was just so overwhelmed by it.” He suddenly sobbed. “She was in a bad mood, and Julian asked where you were, and she figured it out. God, we were fighting with each other, and--” 

“God, Johnny. Is she okay?”

“Wh… of course she’s okay! I mean, she’s devastated . And Jules… well, he doesn’t understand what’s so wrong about it, I suppose.” Paul smiled. “There’s not really anything wrong with it, but--”

“John,” Paul interrupted softly. “John, it’s okay. I mean, there was nowhere in the article that they even mentioned you cheating on her.”

“She knows what the press can do. And she promised she’d keep quiet about it.” John sighed. “Thank you for staying here with me.”

“Hey, of course. Love, we can work it out. I promise.” It was quiet before John started to hum. “What are you singing, John, love?”

“We can work it out. Makes a good song, I think.” 

Paul giggled. “You ready to come out, then? We can get to work on writing it?” The door opened, and John pressed himself right into Paul.

“I love you. I’m so glad I found you.” He sniffled into the younger man’s shirt, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“I love you, too.”


End file.
